


Light the night

by Meelah



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meelah/pseuds/Meelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian Pavus, the notorious libertine, thinks he can handle the Iron Bull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light the night

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write a 100 word drabble on the subject of "Dorian Pavus, the notorious libertine".
> 
> Witness my complete and utter failure.

Dorian Pavus, the notorious libertine, thinks he can handle the Iron Bull.

Light flirting, glances over his shoulder until he's noticed. _Maker, the mercenary is massive_ — Dorian’s mouth wets thinking about how big his cock must be, how it would feel to choke on it. Dorian teases the brute – carefully placed hand on the thigh, oh the power in the muscles when the man shifts makes Dorian positively vibrate in excitement. Yes, he wants those thighs pressing on his shoulders, wants his mouth to be used in the most wicked ways. He smiles and looks the big man straight in the eyes and moves his hand further up, confident in the knowledge that there isn't a man alive that could resist him. 

There is lust in the Iron Bull’s eyes, that much Dorian recognises easily. He’s seen that look before and enjoys the power it gives him, enjoys the thrill of the hunt and reeling in his hapless prey. That there’s something else in the one-eyed gaze the Iron Bull gives him is easy enough to ignore, and hasn’t Dorian done more foolhardy, more dangerous things before?

“I have a room,” Dorian leans in to say, and— the musky smell of the man makes him more drunk than all the wine he’s consumed tonight. “Should you want to get more intimately acquainted.”

“Could do,” the warrior says, lifts a big hand and rests it easily on Dorian’s hip. Without any applied force the weight of the hand and the arm pull Dorian closer. “My company what you want?”

 _Oh, you like me to beg_ , Dorian thinks delighted, and it suits him and his mood very well.

“Would seem a waste, a big handsome man like you, going to bed by yourself,” Dorian smirks, the curve of the lip perfectly calculated and practiced. “If I have it in my power, I would not allow such a thing.”

“Waste, eh,” the big man says and huffs out a laugh, a laugh Dorian likes immensely. “Very well. I don’t much fancy an empty bed myself either.”

When Dorian leads him up the stairs he does it without looking back, confident that the Iron Bull will follow. In his room Dorian takes the large hand missing fingers and kisses the stubs, licks them while watching the Iron Bull’s face and sees the lust blossom into full-fledged desire.

“Undress me,” Dorian breathes and backs off to the bed, lips slightly apart, inviting.

The Iron Bull comes to him. Dorian expects hands pulling on clothes, tearing them off him and he trembles in anticipation. What he gets is a long, appreciative look, and then – and then he gets _gentle_ hands, easing buckles open, parting folds, carefully removing garment after another, he gets lips kissing exposed skin, he gets admiring words _oh beautiful, stunning, would you look at that_. All the while the other look the Iron Bull had in his eye, the one that Dorian ignored earlier, plays in the corner of his eye.

“Will you _please_ —“ Dorian says because now he’s trembling for another reason.

The Iron Bull stops and listens. _This is new_ , Dorian thinks, and the trembling doesn’t stop.

“—hurry up,” Dorian breathes. “Hurry up and fuck me.” Maybe even manages to make it seductive.

The Iron Bull obliges him — but on his own terms, and any power, any control Dorian thought he’d had, is gone. The man is strong, even stronger than Dorian had hoped, but not forceful. Dorian would have expected to be disappointed by this because that’s always how he’s liked it, and that what he seeks out in a partner — but no, he’s not disappointed, far from it. The strong hands splay him on the bed, hold his hips down as the Iron Bull sucks his cock, too slow and too _adoring_ , drawing out raw pleasure in a completely new way that almost overwhelms Dorian.

“Please please—“ Dorian croaks again and as soon he’s said it the man, this infuriating big oaf, stops and looks at him. 

Gazes exchanged, position changed, this time Dorian is on all fours and _yes here it comes_ — he thinks but yet again the Iron Bull surprises him.

“Gorgeous,” the Iron Bull whispers and Dorian arches his back as the Qunari’s big tongue licks his hole. Long leisurely licks, hint of teeth and the Iron Bull’s stubble rough against Dorian’s most sensitive skin in just the right way to get him to pull a sharp breath in and the tongue inside him makes him stop breathing altogether. 

“Gorgeous,” the Iron Bull says again, later, and finally _finally_ Dorian is getting what he’s been begging for.

The Iron Bull is large, large in _every_ way just like Dorian had hoped he would be, looming over Dorian. He’s been set up in a new positing again by the strong hands, now on his back with pillows under his ass lifting him up so that the Iron Bull can rub his slick cock at his hole.

“H-hard,” is the only thing Dorian manages to gasp before the Iron Bull pushes in.

Gentle it’s not. Finally the Iron Bull is breathless too, something Dorian has been since the beginning of their encounter. Finally he’s inside Dorian and it’s every bit as satisfying he hoped it would, the size of him, the heat of him, the lewd sound of the wet thrusts. 

“Can you—“ the Iron Bull pants, rolling his hips. “Take hold of the headboard, and I’ll give it to you—“

Dorian lifts his hands, palms flat against the headboard. The Iron Bull gives it to him hard and fast, hard and fast until all thought escapes Dorian and there's only searing pleasure. 

But afterwards, _oh_ , the hands, the gentle strong hands are back. _Water, here_ , and Dorian drinks, letting the hands hold his head like a newborn babe. And _let me, just like that_ spreading Dorian back on the bed, this time under the covers, pillows under his head. 

And then, something is wrong because—well because the Iron Bull is sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor, picking up his pants. _Good, it’s better you go now before you too break my heart, thank you for coming_ , Dorian wants to say but instead his lips say:

“Stay.”

And Dorian blinks angry at his traitorous lips. Changes it quickly to a playful “I told you that you shouldn’t go to bed alone tonight.”

The Iron Bull turns back to look at him, as if assessing him in some horrible test which Dorian expects to fail.

“Or not, if—“ he starts, heart beating fast now but the Iron Bull lets go of his monstrous pants, letting them slide to the floor, lifting his feet back to the bed.

“I reckoned it was a figure of speech,” he says, slipping under the covers too. “You strike me as a man who keeps company for pleasure but sleeps alone.”

 _Even if it's true, is it so wrong to want something more?_ Dorian thinks and lets himself, because if there's something he's always been good at, it is to want the wrong things.

Yet, the Iron Bull is still there in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm birdscameflying on tumblr. If you liked the story and want to reblog it, [here's the link](http://birdscameflying.tumblr.com/post/140858970791/light-the-night).


End file.
